


Seeing in Tartan.

by ForReasonsUnknown (orphan_account)



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Blowjobs, Kilts, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Porn With Very Little Plot, Post War, Post canon, Smut, collins sprawling family, handjobs, that's all this really is, what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 15:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13707516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ForReasonsUnknown
Summary: Farrier perks up immediately, allowing Collins to move out of his grip, watching him disappear into the crowd and catching sight of him going behind the bar in the direction of the locked door leading up to the flat.(AKA: Farrier gets horny and Collins is so done but willing to assist)





	Seeing in Tartan.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is, but it's not too terrible so I decided to share it with you all. After all, there's a distinct lack of kilt smut in this fandom!
> 
> This idea is so silly, but it's grown on me and now all I want to write about is Collins and Farrier and their pub.
> 
> In that respect, this does somewhat link to The Way It Was. And I am honestly considering writing a silly series about these two and their little pub. 
> 
> (Anyone who follows me on Tumblr will see that I am shamelessly inserting my Headcanons about these bastards into this)
> 
> Anyways, I rarely write this sort of thing, so do please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy this madness! X

It's a grand family occasion, the Collinses all gathered together for the first time in years, more tartan in sight than Farrier has ever seen in all his long years. Collins' sister Catherine had finally gotten engaged, her husband officially discharged from the service hospital only hours before he'd gotten down on one knee and slid a shining new ring onto her finger. Collins and Farrier are hosting, _The Black Dog_ filled to breaking point with blonde and ginger heads, their home occupied by several sets of cousins and their children from down South, while they were staying in the small, dank flat that sits above the pub.

Farrier is currently being fussed over by Collins' mother, introducing him to every female family member as _my son's handsome friend_ , the brunette looking uncharacteristically embarrassed, flushed bright red and looking entirely out of place as the only Englishman in a sea of Scots. Catherine finally takes pity on the pair of them after noticing the intense glare Collins subtly levels one of Farrier's admirers with, and insists the brunette pours her a drink, restoring him to his place with Collins behind the bar.

The frown drops from Collins' face, giving his sister an appreciative smile and nod.

Collins' fingertips brush his as he passes him a fresh glass, Farrier smiling at him gently before turning to pour Catherine a pint. She smiles gleefully at them, taking her drink and nodding before disappearing back into the crowd, instantly the centre of attention, the ring on her finger being thoroughly examined by every relative with functioning eyesight. Collins feels an unavoidable sense of jealousy watching her so free and happy, the ring on his middle finger burning into his skin with its desire to be its rightful place on his ring finger. He'll move it back once they're alone again, and Farrier will give him a warm smile that makes Collins lightheaded.

For now, Collins just has to quash his jealousy and he is somewhat helped when Farrier leans around him to grab a glass for some obscure uncle, leaving a hand on Collins' back under the guise of staying balanced.

Not long after that Collins' boisterous uncle kicks them out from behind the bar, loudly insisting that he can do the job better. The pair of them are left weaving through the crowd to a table lodged at the back of the room, mostly obscured by jutting wooden panels on either side. They're silent for a long few moments, brushing off drunken relatives by pointing out Catherine's current position surrounded by the bar, or suggesting they go and get another drink.

"Sorry." Collins murmurs, taking a gulp of the drink he'd managed to smuggle through the crowd. Farrier shakes his head, eyes dropping from the crowd to Collins. The blonde had spent an hour before the party had started fussing over his kilt, regarding the red fabric with a deep contempt, adjusting the thing constantly and to no real end. Farrier had come up behind him, pressing kisses to his neck, a hand sliding under the kilt and being happily surprised to find Collins wearing nothing beneath it. Collins had flushed so brightly he nearly matched the colour of the kilt, but had made no move to extricate himself, head falling back softly against Farrier's shoulder.

The corner of Farrier's mouth twitches up at the memory and Collins notices, looking at him in confusion.

"What're you smi-," Collins' voice abruptly cuts off when Farrier's hand moves to rest on his thigh, shifting himself closer so their shoulders touch. " _Oh_ ," He sighs, not entirely meaning to. Farrier moves his hand down, confusion descending over Collins' expression again before disappearing completely when Farrier's hand slides up under the fabric, grabbing at the muscle of his thighs again with warm fingers. " _Shit_."

Farrier laughs, taking a mouthful of Collins' drink before giving his leg a light squeeze, baring his teeth in a predatory grin when Collins' hand involuntarily grabs at his forearm, not quite willing to push him away.

"I should clean your mouth out with soap," Farrier purrs into his ear, looking about them immediately afterwards the ensure they haven't been noticed, leaning back in upon confirming that the coast is still clear. " _Shameful_ , Ainsley." Farrier punctuates his words by moving his hand further up, Collins shifting uncomfortably, cheeks starting to flush.

"This is _not_ happening," Collins hisses, still making no effort to remove Farrier's hand from his leg. After a moment however, Collins' mouth twists into a smirk, eyes scanning the crowd, moving to stand. "Not _here_ , anyways." Farrier perks up immediately, allowing Collins to move out of his grip, watching him disappear into the crowd and catching sight of him going behind the bar in the direction of the locked door leading up to the flat. Farrier leaves it a few minutes, finishing his drink and inserting himself into a short lived conversation with the unnamed uncle behind the bar, who seemed determined to have a glass of each of their drinks.

He slips out of the room unnoticed, only Catherine seeing him retreat towards the door leading upstairs. She catches his eye for a moment and winks before turning back to entertain her admiring crowd. Farrier stands smiling like an idiot for a moment before pulling the door open and locking it behind him, ascending the stairs quickly, mind set solely on one thing now.

At the top of the stairs is a second door which leads into their flat and as he pushes it open, he's confronted by Collins, who is now entirely starkers aside from the kilt wrapped around his hips, the bright fabric contrasting against his pale skin. The blonde leans against the kitchen worktop, the picture of everything Farrier desires with his mouth hung slightly open and an arm outstretched, beckoning him closer. Farrier obeys without question, hastily locking the second door behind him and sliding off his shoes, crossing the room in quick, efficient strides.

Farrier is kissing him as soon as he gets close enough, strong hands clamping onto Collins' hips while his fingers thread through his short hair. Collins pulls away with a loud gasp when he's lifted up onto the counter, Farrier leaning up to press open-mouthed kisses against his throat and standing himself between Collins' spread knees. After a moment's recovery, Collins' hands are on him, grabbing at his shirt and ripping it open with little regard for the buttons scattering across the stained floor, pushing it over Farrier's shoulders and flinging it across the room as though it's caused him some great offence.

"You really _must_ wear this more often." Farrier murmurs into his ear, one of his hands moving to grab at Collins' cock, giving it a long, drawn out stroke that has him cursing loudly, head thrown back. The brunette moves into a slow yet relentless rhythm, Collins' legs tightening around his waist and hands grabbing desperately at his shoulders; fingernails leaving deep crescents in his skin as bruises bloom beneath his teeth.

" _Farrier_ ," he manages to force out, pulling back to face Farrier and finding himself pulled into a kiss, making an obscene sound into Farrier's mouth when he's surprised with a quicker stroke. Farrier lets him breathe and there's an insufferable smirk lighting up his face. But Collins pays it little notice, instead focusing on bucking his hips up into Farrier's hand and growling when he loosens his grip in response. "You _bastard_." He hisses, Farrier chuckling.

"What is it?" He asks, hand slowing nearly to a stop, Collins cursing at him and trying to buck up again only to find Farrier's free hand holding him down. "You'll have to speak up, Darling." Collins bites his shoulder hard in an attempt to force him into action and is rewarded by Farrier's hand moving agonisingly slowly, entire body shaking in overstimulation. He lets Farrier continue like that for what feels like hours - but what can only be a minute or so - before breaking.

"Let me come already you bastard." He says at last, accent thick and muffling his words somewhat. Luckily, Farrier knows him well enough to listen out for the key words and his message gets across well enough.

Well enough that Farrier removes his hand altogether, quickly replacing it with his mouth, swallowing Collins down in one impressive go. The shock of it has Collins slamming his head back into the wall, only lasting a few moments before he comes, body going limp, Farrier swallowing and pulling off with an obscene pop. Through his orgasmic haze, Collins finds Farrier grinning lopsidedly at him, proud of himself as he straightens up.

"Couldn't have you ruining this now could I?" Farrier says, gesturing down at the kilt. Collins nods automatically and is about to return the favour when commotion from downstairs catches his attention, his name clearly being screeched by some aunt about to take their leave. Farrier meets his apologetic look with a smile and a shrug, helping him on with his shed clothes. Remembering the time, Collins is hit with a wave of hope, knowing that everyone will start filtering out soon. Farrier must realise this too, as his eyes go between Collins and the clock, brow furrowed in thought.

Before returning to his family, Collins saunters back to Farrier, kissing him long and deep, not too bothered by tasting himself on Farrier's insistent tongue. They part but Collins keeps him held close, hands fisted in the undone shirt he's now draped over his shoulders.

"I'll be twenty minutes," he starts, breathing deeply when one of Farrier's hands begins to thread through his dishevelled hair. He'll have to fix that on his way downstairs. "I'll make an excuse for you an' get the place locked up," one of his hands moves the brush over Farrier's chest, tracing over a tattoo he finds curled there. "An' when I come back, you can fuck me with that _wonderful_ prick of yours." Collins gives the prick in question a light touch through Farrier's jeans, finding endless enjoyment in the daft noises Farrier releases in response. An exhilarating mix of surprise and arousal.

Farrier finally nods, kissing Collins once more before pushing him in the direction of the door, calling out to the blonde just before he reaches it.

"You _really should_ wear that thing more often." He remarks, eyes on the kilt again. Collins grins and shakes his head, giving a quick wink before disappearing out the door and down the stairs.

Farrier settles himself down onto the bed and waits.

**Author's Note:**

> This was only proof read by me, and was admittedly written on my phone. So do please point out any errors I have missed! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated! X


End file.
